Hammering It Out
by McIlwain
Summary: The Tellers are a normal family. Sort of. Kinda. In between retaliations, that is. Tara's POV.
1. Chapter 1: Porn Star 101

**A/N: A special thanks to elbeewoods for her continual support and encouragement. I'm so glad to have found** **you!**

I have no claim to anything relating to the of Sons of Anarchy.

"You know I wouldn't ask if it weren't important, babe."

It was those words that got Tara every time. It was true the clubhouse never took advantage of her medical skills, saving her expertise for bullet holes, knife wounds, and ass bites. Most of the time Tara didn't even mind. But this house call would be at Diosa Norte, the only legitimate business of the club, and the one place in the entire MC world that Tara truly detested. Tara also knew Jax was desperate to make this venture work, and she wanted to help her husband in any way she could.

Tara scanned the perimeter as soon as she stepped onto the lot. Blondes with bad weaves and fake breasts littered the entrance. Standard product. Tara couldn't prevent her gaze, as hard as she tried, from searching for a particular skinny bitch.

Tara breathed a little easier when she determined Ima wasn't present. Seeing her would be the equivalent of a hard slap in the face.

Tara walked directly into Diosa's makeshift storage room. It housed extra beds and full length mirrors along with Xerox paper and paper clips. Strange mix. Tara set on the edge of a ragged loveseat and tried not to think about the stains on the cushions. She was becoming more and more irritated. It was bad enough Jax interrupted her appointment schedule; now Nero was making her wait. Tara's eyes roamed around looking for something to distract her when she spied a bookshelf by the wall. The book spines were colorful and full of pictures. Tara scrunched her eyebrows. Why would Diosa keep children's books here? She couldn't imagine Nero or Lyla bringing their children here, but maybe the other mothers had no choice sometimes. Tara pulled a couple off the shelf; she was always looking for new titles. The boys knew every word that Dr. Seuss had ever written, and Shel Silverstein was as depressing as hell. The titles of her selections made her want to wash her hands. "Handjobs and Gretel" and "If you give a Dick a Pussy" were not what she had in mind for a bedtime story. Tara shook her head as she replaced the porno dvds. Nero was a "companionater" only, so these had to be leftovers from CaraCara.

Tara's self-righteousness was being pricked by insecurities as waves of silicone and ass began passing the doorway. Is this what it came down to, even if a woman was pretty, bright, educated, funny? Was this always the ultimate goal? A tight ass and big breasts usurped everything else?

"Thanks for seeing us, Doc." Nero's appreciative greeting pulled Tara out of her funk. He was helping one of his clones limp into the room. "I don't know what happened," the young girl winced as Nero helped her limp into the room. "When I tried to stand up, my knee just locked."

"What were you doing beforehand?"

"I was on my knees." Maybe that was one of _her_ problems, Tara thought bitterly. Maybe she needed to spend more time in that position.

After a close look at the swelling, Tara diagnosed the condition and gave instructions for the inflammation. The escort gave her thanks and leaned onto Nero as they exited. Tara tried to focus on repacking her medical bag, but it was hard not to notice the line of johns bustling inside. Tara took a couple of deep breaths. Finally, after checking the doorway, she grabbed a few movies off the shelf and placed them in her bag. She tried to act nonchalant as she headed towards her car.

"Can I talk to you for a minute, Lyla?" Lyla looked up with a smile. She stopped by the clubhouse regularly to check in with the club. Opie's brothers were diligent about making sure his widow was taken care of. It wasn't unusual for Tara to be at the clubhouse either, but she was usually picking up the boys at this hour.

"Sure. What's up?"

Tara was fidgety and looked extremely uncomfortable. Definitely not her style. "I sort of came across one of your dvds." Tara became more agitated. After several seconds Tara blurted out, "I watched it." Lyla didn't know whether to be horrified, embarrassed, or consider it an invasion of privacy. "It was nice," Tara trailed off weakly. Tara was rocking and her eyes were darting everywhere but at Lyla. Suddenly, Tara's eyes became big as saucers. "I mean, " Tara sputtered, "this was before your bush days." Tara turned bright red. God, this was turning out badly.

"Okay. Thanks."

Lyla was heading towards the clubhouse when Tara called out, "I was hoping you could help me." Lyla was surprised. She couldn't imagine why Tara, of all people, would come to her. Was this a way to butter her up? Tara should know her better than that.

"I was wondering if you could teach me a little about your . . .craft." Tara had gone from red to crimson. Lyla was shellshocked. She hadn't heard any rumors about Jax and Tara being on the rocks, and she knew Jax hadn't been sniffing around Diosa. Tara seemed to channel her thinking. "Oh, no, Jax and I are fine. I was just hoping to freshen things up." Tara chuckled shakily.

Lyla was too classy to simper at Tara. All of their friction had evaporated when Lyla asked for Tara's help with the abortion. Since then, Lyla and Tara had become friends. Both women had supported each other when things were sour with their old men. They had watched each other's children. Tara had stood by Lyla at her wedding. Even now, Tara stopped by her house every week to chat.

Lyla gave a little smile. She understood the pressures of being surrounded by willing, scantily-clad women. She had been burned by that herself, and she was one of the broads in that category.

Tara didn't know what she wanted from Lyla at this point. Hell, she wanted to forget the whole conversation. The thought of her friend giving her sex tips made her feel, she didn't even know. Girls did these things with each other, right? But a porn star giving tips was a lot different than a couple of twelve-year-olds practicing French kissing. Finally, Lyla spoke.

"Who would we get to watch the kids?"

Tara was realizing there was more to porn than just lying on your back.

Lyla's tutelage was turning into some crazy sex bootcamp. Lyla insisted she could become a hellcat in six weeks, but Tara didn't know if she could last that long. Three sets of kegels a day. Crunches to strengthen her core. Yoga to strengthen her core. Belly dancing to strengthen her core and hips. God, she hated her core. Lyla also gave her lessons on blowjobs using the age old popsicle method. The only reason Tara's tutoring stayed below the radar was because of Jax's travel schedule.

"You'll be just fine." Lyla tried to soothe Tara's nerves as she strapped the boys in her car. "Just remember to have fun. Men are easy; a willing woman is most of the battle." Tara tried to smile as Lyla pulled out, but a tsunami of doubt began to engulf her. Was she really competing with escorts now? She thought her cat fighting days were over. What would Jax think?

Tara was still dealing with her doubts when Jax arrived. "Hey, baby." Tara couldn't help but grin. She was always thrilled when her husband walked through the door. Jax returned the smile. "How ya doing, darlin'?"

"Lonely." Tara walked straight to him and purposely brushed against his body. She decided to get straight to the point; she didn't want to lose her nerve. She whispered, "Lyla has the boys," and that was all the encouragement Jax needed. Thank God. Tara didn't think she could pull off one of those dopey come-hither lines.

Tara pushed Jax's naked body on top of the comforter and straddled him. Tara passionately kissed Jax's mouth, taking the time to explore Jax's cupid's bow and lower lip with her tongue. Her lips traveled lightly across his cheekbone until they reached his ear. She used her tongue to slowly trace his outer ear before grazing his lobe with her teeth. Each move was done at a leisurely pace, because according to Lyla, 'swiftness is the sign of an inexperienced lover.' Tara continued her tongue traces and grazes until she felt goose bumps along Jax's neck, and then switched to the other side. She felt Jax's hands reach under his old t-shirt and glide along her back.

When he thought he would whimper at her mouth's deliberateness, Jax pushed Tara's upper body in a higher position and began rolling her shirt above her stomach. Tara raised her arms to help him along. When Jax had fully removed her top, he simply stared while Tara grinned triumphantly. She had attached a pair of silver tassels on her taut nipples – pole dancer 101. Tara shook her breasts ever so slightly so air could flow through the strands. Tara pushed Jax on his back again while he was still in his stupor. "You ready, baby?" Jax grinned devilishly, ready to enjoy his wife's efforts. Tara returned the smile. "Then let's have some fun."

Jax stopped trying to halt his groans in the first thirty seconds of his wife's ministrations. All of her core training was paying off tremendously. Tara's pussy had deliciously encompassed her husband's entire dick. Stiff, precise jerks rotated effortlessly from her hips, a two count rhythm that caused Jax's dick to sway back and forth inside her. Then Tara placed his hands on each of her breasts. She glided his thumbs on her upper mounds while encouraging him to manipulate her stacks however he wanted. The tassels movements on her nipples caused a rush of wetness to drip around Jax's dick. Imagining how she appeared to him now made her grind even harder into him.

Tara's changed her bush jerks into figure eight circles, forcing herself to make slow, detailed rotations. Tara leaned herself towards Jax's pecs as her hips swiveled on top of his cock. She allowed the tips of her tassels to sway above and tickle Jax's chest. She extended a hand behind her and lightly caressed his balls.

Jax already thought he would go crazy from Tara's riding and tassels, but he hit lunatic status when Tara's walls began clutching his dick. His cock was blanketed in between her hot, wet walls, and he could feel his dick vibrate from Tara's hip thrusts and shimmies. He tried to protest, strained to hold back when he heard his wife whisper, "Come for me," but the sensations were too overwhelming.

Tara felt victorious when Jax grabbed her hips and rocked his cock violently into her center. She folded her arms against his chest and waited patiently until Jax opened his eyes. His look was of a child that had received his favorite toy at Christmas. Tara couldn't help but smile slyly. "Happy to be home, baby?" Tara laughed when Jax could only muster a grin; she reached over to a nightstand to retrieve a glass of water. "We need to get you hydrated," Tara smirked. Jax knew a glass of water couldn't begin to calm his body down. Hell, he didn't even think a couple of joints and some tequila would help. Not that Tara seemed interested in him leveling out. In fact, the gleam in her eye told him something entirely different. And when she leaned down and began sucking on his neck, his suspicions were confirmed.

Tara had already left for work when Gemma let herself into the house. She automatically made coffee while she waiting for Lyla to drop off the kids. Jax staggered into the kitchen about twenty minutes later. Gemma poured him some coffee while giving him a long once-over. She narrowed her eyes accusingly. "Were you at Diosa last night?" Jax's body stiffened immediately, then softened. He guessed he deserved that.

"No, why would I be?'

"Because you look like you got ran over by the cage. And you smell like sweat, cum, and some kind of goddamn pheromone gone sour."

Jax's grin was smug. "Nah, that's all Tara."

Gemma thought for a second, then nodded her head. "The girl's learning."


	2. Chapter 2: Lunch

Chapter 2: Lunch

"Do we really have to do this now?". Tara hoped she was restraining her irritation at least some-what. "I'm really not in the mood." She took a quick peek at Gemma's dining room clock. Six forty-five already? Shit.

"Not in the mood to raise your own children? Pick them up on time?"

Gemma gave Tara a once over, taking note of her tired eyes and weary posture. Girl needed a good meal and a decent night's sleep. She'd talk to Jax about that later. But it wouldn't prevent Gemma from putting a boot in her ass at this moment.

"Jax was supposed to pick up the kids today," Tara mumbled. She closed her eyes and counted to ten before continuing; she didn't want to say anything rude. She needed Gemma's understanding for situations like this. It wouldn't be in her best interest to start a fight.

Using this to her advantage, Gemma spread it on thick. "When Jax was young, I didn't have the luxury of a kiddie dumping ground. I handled him myself, even when Thomas was ill." Gemma closed her eyes at the memories, shook her head to dissolve them. "You have Jax and daycare and you still can't make it work?"

Tara looked at her incredulously. "Do you see Jax around?" Gemma ignored the comment.

"The point is, if the boys stayed with me, you wouldn't have to worry about calling me for last-minute pick-up, or whether club business delays Jax." There was a touch of pleading in Gemma's voice. "Just consider it. Me and the club can handle it just fine."

Tara grimaced. Instead of her kids learning the ABC's of reading, the clubhouse would be instructing them on the FGH's of fucking, gun running, and hustling God-knows-what.

"Fine, I'll think about it," Tara sighed, partially to appease Gemma, and partially because it made perfect sense. Gemma nodded, knowing this was the best she would get right now. As she kissed the boys good-bye, Gemma threw out, "I already fed them dinner.". Tara just rolled her eyes at Gemma's last dig. At least she wouldn't have to worry about cooking tonight.

Jax never minded the house being a little messy. He didn't blink an eye when the kids weren't down by eight, or when she occasionally used Sprout to babysit while she cooked. But for her, it was the principle of the matter. She'd graduated Suma cum laude from a top 10 medical school. Seasoned doctors asked her opinion about diagnoses when she was a resident. And now, she was the pride of Charming, someone mothers would cite when they told their children they could be anything they wanted. Tara had totally revamped the neonatal department at St. Thomas. She brought in tax dollars as more out-of-state parents sought second opinions from her. Most importantly, she restored the Reaper Crew's credibility in the town. How bad could the Sons be, they reasoned, if she was married to their President? With all those accomplishments, she should be able to bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan, and fuck her man, right? Maybe the commercials were wrong.

Jax helped with chores when he could, but he didn't exactly hold steady hours himself. She frowned. When had Jax said he would be home, anyway? He had mentioned something about meeting some Russians today, but she had been going through her own mental to-do list and hadn't paid full attention.

As she was deciding whether to have bathtime or read stories, her Blackberry vibrated. Tara groaned. It couldn't be good news at this hour.

She was right. St. Thomas asked her to fill in this evening; the physician scheduled had a family emergency. Although she was tired as hell, she acquiesced, because God knows when she would be in that situation again. With her IPhone wedged between her shoulder and ear, she called Gemma again as she re-zipped the kids' jackets.

Tara's added shift was thirty minutes from being over. It had been blissfully quiet, so much so that Tara had been able to catch up on paperwork. But just before the nurses' rotation, Tara was called into exam room #3. Tara did a cursory glance at the patient: Caucasian, dark clothes, old bruises on face and hands. Excess wear and tear on his belt where a holster would hang. Definitely not a civilian. Great, I even talk like an old lady now, Tara thought ruefully. It occurred to her that this man might be Russian. "I'll be examing you, Mr….," Tara said, hoping to prod him for a name. 'Ivan' - of course it was. "I'm Dr. Knowles," Tara said, careful to use her maiden name. Jax had insisted she use it to help prevent fall back because of his actions. Most of the Mayans and Niners knew her anyway, but were careful to give her a wide berth. She had provided medical treatment for both groups during their occasional alliances with the Sons. Besides, it was always useful to know a doctor in their line of work.

Tara gave a rough physical exam with her hands, and was relieved to discover no bullet wounds. Still, this man had definitely been used as a personal punching bag. As she stapled the cuts above his eyes and repositioned his shoulder, Tara checked the skin tears on his cheeks. She noticed the slightest indentation of the letter 'S' in his flesh. Jesus.

After she gave Ivan instructions for his concussion, she watched him limp into a van and drive off. It occurred to her that not only did she clean up after Jax at home, she was his honorary maid at work, too. Ab-so-fucking ridiculous.

All of her boys were present when Tara returned home for the second time this evening. Jax was stretched out on the living room floor with his eyes closed. He was so tired, in fact, he didn't even attempt to keep Abel from pulling his beard, or Thomas from teething on his kutte. Tara couldn't help but smile at the sight. The kids ran to her when they heard the door click. Jax groaned a, "Hey, Babe," in her general direction, but otherwise seemed determined not to move from his position. She should have it so lucky. Not bothering with baths tonight, she undressed the boys and laid them in their beds.

Jax had made it to the couch by then, and even managed to partially strip to his waist.

Tara grabbed her medical bag by the front door and walked towards her old man. Straddling him lightly, she surveyed his cuts and bruises, lovingly applying antiseptic to his knuckles, and examining his pupils with her otoscope. She took her time cleaning blood residue from his horseshoe ring. She smiled and shook her head. She had to admit Jax looked even sexier than normal with a shiner.

"I saw your sparring partner earlier; looks like you won that round."

"You proud of me, babe?" Jax's eyes twinkled in amusement. Tara wasn't sure if her doctor's oath allowed her to get satisfaction from Ivan's pounding. To feel a little smug over his ass being served on a platter. But if it saved her own husband from serious harm, Tara decided, she was more than okay with it.

"Your mother really tore me a new one about having to pick up the kids," Tara stated, still a little annoyed at Jax for dropping the ball. " Sorry, Babe, but business ran into overtime. I promise to make it up to you later, darlin'," Jax said with a sultry voice.

"You've got to be kidding me," Tara gritted out angrily as she pushed his fingers away from her breast. "You need to take this more seriously! I know single moms who get more help from their exes . I thought you would be able to delegate more of this shit now that you're President." Jax lifted his arms in resignation, as if to say, 'What else can I do?' Tara knew in her heart he was trying, really trying. And it wasn't completely his fault – she knew exactly what she had signed up for. Sometimes, though, it just felt like too much. Tara jumped off of the couch and dragged herself towards the shower, leaving Jax to fend for himself the rest of the night.

After a good sulk in the bathtub, Tara pulled on an old SAMCRO t-shirt and listened to Jax's breathing before climbing into bed. Tara spooned herself tightly around his back and ass. Jax instinctively pulled her arms tighter around his torso as he shifted in his sleep. As she allowed Jax's heat to warm her body, she knew she could handle, would handle anything as long as it kept Jax in her arms. She remembered the relentless sorrow when she left, the endless crying jags. And then there was Josh, who still caused her to feel an enormous amount of guilt. She wondered if she had speeded his psychosis. He knew on some level she was using him as a distraction. He was jealous of the tattoo after researching it on ATF's computer. On their vacation, she had flaunted her crow in a bikini after he remarked it was a symbol of 'white trash.' She had repeatedly refused Josh's suggestions that she have it removed. The final straw had been when he hit her after "accidently" finding a picture of Jax.

No success in the operating room would ever compare to the feelings Jax created in her, that jumble of desire and love, trust and friendship that had never dulled. She knew Jax felt the same way, had tried to protect them both the second time around, but in the end, they knew it was inevitable. They would always belong together.

Jax waited patiently, noting Tara's conversation with Dr. Dickwad, the jerk who didn't understand the meaning of a wedding band. He gave a shy smile as his wife approached him. In his hands were several stems of her favorite flowers. "Happy anniversary," Jax whispered while brushing his lips against hers. Tara stared at him in confusion until it clicked in her brain. It wasn't the anniversary of their marriage; it was the anniversary of her first ride on his Harley. The ride that caused her to be grounded for a week. She had no idea he had committed it to memory as well. The familiar tingles shot through their palms as she took his hand, grinning, and led him to her office.

She had barely closed the door before Jax began kissing her deeply and thoroughly. "I love you so much," he whispered before looking into her eyes. "You're my everything." Tara returned the kiss eagerly, letting him know by her embrace that all was forgiven. He reached back for a moment, grinning wickedly. "I think I promised you a little somethin'," her old man said before diving back into her mouth, licking the sensitive skin underneath her lip. Jax's hands were as thorough as his tongue as he skimmed along her arms, torso and chest. Tara willingly followed him to her desk, not breaking their kiss until he gently sat her down in her rolling chair. He then sat on his knees in between her legs.

"You know, I haven't eaten anything all day," Jax remarked casually as he flipped the clogs from her feet. "Help me out?"

Tara was trying to follow his train of thought when Jax tugged at the drawstring on her scrub pants. "Jax," Tara squealed, suddenly clutching the bottom of her chair. "What are you doing?!"

Jax looked at her innocently. "Can I at least have a taste?" Jax and Tara played chicken with their eyes until Tara's legs began to shake and he knew he had her. He grabbed her scrub bottoms and panties simultaneously and rolled them down her legs. They fell past her socks as he locked her chair wheels. He opened her thighs, taking in her faint scent.

As Jax allowed his tongue to dive deeper in her wetness, she marveled at how easily she could be bought – the price of a bouquet and an awesome beaver munching.

Jax gave soft kisses to her clit while his calloused fingers glided slowly on each side of her warm entrance. As Jax slid one, then two fingers inside her, Tara tried desperately to perform those stupid Lamaze exercises to halt her moans. Unfortunately, they weren't working this second time around, either.

"Jax," Tara groaned as her hips began grinding against his fingers. When Jax used his thumb on her clit in conjunction with his fingers, Tara gave up the battle, and came with a strangled moan. She kept her eyes closed and luxuriated in Jax as he cleaned her up with his tongue.

Jax was grinning as he helped Tara pull her panties, scrubs, and clogs back on. Suddenly, Tara grabbed some tissues from her drawer and began pumping hand sanitizer on them. Jax laughed when she tried to clean her remnants from his facial hair.

"You want Tig following you around the rest of the day? " Tara giggled at the thought.

Jax shrugged his shoulders and grinned. "I'm used to the envy."

They were laughing, Jax still on bent knees, when her office door opened. "Tara, I have the work-ups you requested. I think...," Dr. Dickwad took a step back. Tara's banana clip had fallen, causing her hair to flow haphazardly along her back. Her face was still rosy. "Oh…excuse me."

"Don't mind me," Jax smirked as he rose from between Tara's legs. He gave a quick kiss to her forehead before explaining, "I just stopped by for lunch."

As he sauntered past Dickwad on his way out the door, he threw out, "Hope your lunch was as tasty," causing Tara to turn crimson as she stared at some papers on her desk.


	3. Chapter 3: On the Run

Chapter 3: On the Run

It was the second time Jax had cancelled their trip to the cabin. Jax had pleaded for Tara's understanding. "Babe, the club's gotta earn while the pot's hot." The Cartel had doubled their order for long range snipers and automatics, and the Irish were only too happy to fill them. The Cartel was in the middle of a skirmish with their rivals. The fight was bloody, but was made for good money as far as the SONs were concerned.

Eventually, the fighting ended, but not without collateral damage to Jax and Tara's relationship. Jax's schedule had been so swamped with Irish deliveries he only came home to shower and sleep. Tara's schedule was bustling as well, so their only words each day were "Good night. " Their only touches were the kisses given after the blare of the alarm clock.

Romeo's victory didn't lesson the SONs trafficking as much as they thought it would. In fact, it multiplied because Romeo's success was attributed to the SONs participation. Non-SOA MCs from all over the Northwest begged Redwood to sell them weapons. The workload was lighter, but still demanded a lot of commuting time.

A different type of client appeared on their roster as well. Vivica, Happy's mom's neighbor, and Nubian goddess of all things organic and pilfered, asked the MC for help. She needed security detail for shipments of IMacs and Samsungs. Vivica's sons were grounded: they had been caught disrespecting her home with pole dancers. As a result, their details, and thus their allowances, were taken away. Jax and his brothers decided to vote it in; it would promote good will between the franchises.

So when Jax began to cancel the cabin again because of a run for Vivica, Tara decided to change her idea of a weekend getaway.

"Take me with you," Tara brazenly suggested in the middle of Jax's "I'm sorrys and "Next times." She knew these jobs were a lot less hazardous, practically walks in the park, compared to their other runs.

"What, are you serious?" Juice's spurt verified the brothers' continual eavesdropping on their conversations. The other bikers looked as shock as their prez when the request was made.

Chibs piped in. "Ya know he's right, lass. Ev'ry run has its share 'eh shet."

Tara shrugged her shoulders. "It's just a bunch of computers, right? Totally safe." She tossed a smirk in Jax's direction, then hit below the belt. "You telling me you can handle a bunch of electronics, but aren't butch enough to guard an old lady?" Tara's taunting threw the club for a loop.

Jax was incredulous. He'd never known a time when an old lady accompanied a run, not even Gemma. And Tara actually wanted to do this? As outlandish as it was, Jax couldn't help but appreciate his wife's swagger. It was always a turn-on.

Tara held her breath as she waited for Jax to weigh his options. The entire club seemed to be on pins and needles. Finally, he said, "You sure you wanna do this, darlin'?" Hesitancy was in his voice, but his eyes showed his thrill – his wife's willingness to sacrifice for some quasi-alone time. Tara stepped towards Jax until her body was just flush with his. Her words were cocky as she replied, "I'm all in, baby."

Tara asked Gemma to watch the boys on Saturday. She did it partly because the boys would love it, and partly so it would block Gemma from trying to ride as well. Gemma couldn't stand the thought of a babysitter spending more time with her grandsons than her. She kept her fingers crossed that no one would rat out her plan.

Gemma's rants could be heard from the repair office as Tara parked onto the lot. She was pissy as hell, and was letting Jax know exactly how she felt about Tara joining the entourage. Gemma couldn't believe Tara would be granted this privilege, something she thought wouldn't be possible as an old lady. Even Bobby's assurances of Tara's safety didn't calm the tirade. Tara had to hide behind the car to conceal her smugness. It wasn't a matter of concern for Tara, it was jealousy pure and simple. And it didn't hurt that Tara felt victorious every time she knocked Gemma off her pedestal.

Gemma's rails continued while Tara walked towards the clubhouse porch. She wore a black scoop neck tank that just edged across her full cleavage. Her dark, low waist jeans hugged against her curves and ruthlessly displayed her ass. Her calves were housed in boots that even a straight-laced Joe would lick: butter soft leather, black as midnight, heels so sharp they could chip ice.

Juice and Phil's stares confirmed to Tara that she looked hot. More like a biker's wet dream. She smiled with pride; she felt she was doing her husband justice. She also knew her husband had walked out of the office when their heads and necks snapped towards the ground. When she turned and walked towards Jax, she received the reaction she had been aiming for – a chorus of murmurs and gasps. The back of her tank top was nothing but sheer black mesh. It was connected to its cotton front by small silver bangles. The mesh revealed every single part of her porcelain back. She was a walking beam of moonlight. And it formed the perfect backdrop for the crow tattoo just above her ass. Tara couldn't help but grin devilishly. The club knew she had to have the imprint, but had never seen it exposed.

Jax had to blink twice to make sure it was his wife he was seeing. Beautiful. Sexy. Badass. With enough innocence to keep the softness so many old ladies lose. Tara gave her husband a seductive kiss and grin before slowly walking to his bike. She couldn't help but throw a glance over her shoulder to catch her husband's reaction. She didn't think he'd thrown her that look since she was nineteen. Jax tried to curtail his reaction to his wife's appearance, but the curl in her lip proved he was sucking at it. So he simply handed her her helmet and returned the grin. "All set, darlin'?" Tara's eyes were wicked as she replied, "Always am, baby."

Tara couldn't remember a time when she felt so free. Her hair whipped briskly around her shoulders, the sun was warm on her skin, and her crotch was as close to Jax's backside as it could get. Jax's mouth carried a goofy grin the entire leg of the trip. When they made it to the pick-up site, Happy, Tig, Juice, and Phil erected a Great Wall around her as she smoked a cigarette. She felt a twinge of pride watching her old man finish the deal like a pro.

Jax and Tara had forgotten how lush it felt to fuck in a new setting. The truck driver was all too happy to give them a look-see, handed over the keys to the rig for sale. Tara adjusted the driver's seat backward until she had enough room to wiggle between Jax's legs. Her grin was shit-eating as she lowered his boxers and licked the tip of his dick. She swirled her tongue around his head and pooled the saliva in her mouth for extra lubing. One hand pumped the lower half of his dick while she firmly dragged her mouth back and forth from the top. When she began caressing his balls with her fingertips, Jax knew he was close to exploding. He grabbed Tara's shoulders and dragged her towards the cab's sleeper. Anticipation made her clumsy as she pulled her jeans and panties past her ankles. Jax rammed his cock inside her and moaned at the sensations her body produced. Nothing computed except the heat of her pussy and the wetness and tightness inside. Their moans were ricocheting within the cab when Tara's pussy began jerking and pulsating. Tara wrapped her legs around Jax's hips and allowed the waves to take over, ending her body's journey. Jax followed soon after with grunts and exclamations of her name.

They would've escaped detection if Tara's lips and Jax's hickeys hadn't glowed like neon signs. Or if they could've have stilled their smiles before approaching the driver. But the trucker lost his anger when Jax handed over the keys and several crisp Benjamins.

The sky was a mural of tangerines and grays when the SONs pulled back into the Teller-Morrow garage. Jax kissed his wife with slow passion after he walked her to the car. "I love you. Thank you," whispered Jax before slamming her door shut. He knew it was way past time to pick up the boys. As Jax watched the taillights drift further away, he decided the memory of this trip would be enough to buoy them through the next thousand runs. He didn't understand why any entity would see fit to give him Tara, but he vowed again to do nothing else that would jeopardize their union.


	4. Chapter 4: Preschool

Chapter 4: Preschool

Tara wondered if the Census had the Tellers in mind when they talked about the 'new nuclear family.' Father: business owner of auto repairs and professional escorts. Gun runner. President of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club. Devoted husband and father. Mother: Pediatric cardiologist. Medical resident of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club. Legal face of said motorcycle club. Head old-lady in training. Loving wife and mother. Two beautiful sons. Tara rolled her eyes. At least one part sounded normal.

"It'll be fine, babe," whispered Jax as he sat down with both boys on his lap. Tara envied her husband's ease. Tara hadn't felt this nervous since her first surgery. But then again, Tara thought wryly, they didn't exactly follow the same educational philosophy. While Tara's motto was "explore, expose, expand," at every turn, Jax's plan was to "start worrying during high school." "After all," Jax rationalized with a smirk, "it really doesn't get interesting until high school. Why waste energy beforehand?" Tara had responded with a slap on his arm, but inside she couldn't help but chuckle.

Tara looked around impatiently. St. Thomas Preschool met all of the qualifications she demanded: an educated staff, a vibrant, child-centered environment, and individualized attention. So why did Tara feel like these things were going to bite her in the ass?

"Thank you so much for joining us today." Tara snapped out of her thoughts at Ms. Johnson's voice. Abel's teacher took a seat and began sorting through several papers in her hand. "Abel is a very bright child. Inquisitive, thoughtful, and extremely loyal." Both Tara and Jax beamed at the compliment. "As part of the school's evaluation process, " Ms. Johnson continued, "we ask the children to choose their favorite picture to show their parents. I'd like you to take a good look at Abel's picture."

Ms. Johnson handed the drawing to Jax first. Jax's smile was evident as his eyes perused his son's art. Gradually, Jax's eyes went from pride to shock as he handed the picture to Tara.

Tara gasped softly as she took in Abel's work. It was wonderful; definitely refrigerator worthy. Tara smiled at the picture's details. Abel had used a gold crayon, not yellow, to color his dad's hair. He had drawn a black kutte to cover his father's torso. Jax was holding both Abel and Tara's hands while Thomas clung to Tara's leg. Tara glanced at Jax. His hand was loosely placed over his mouth. To anyone else he looked deep in thought, but Tara knew better – he was holding in some serious laughter. Tara looked back down in confusion. The sun was high in the sky, grass was growing under the Tellers' feet. Tara was in scrubs and a ponytail while holding a detailed sketch of a . . . oh, God. Tara knew she was going to pee on herself.

Abel saw his mom looking at the best part of the picture. He and Ms. Johnson had discussed it earlier in the week. "I told you my mom is cool. Let me show you." Abel leaped off his dad's lap and began scavenging in his mother's purse. Tara sat frozen while Jax scooped up Abel's hand and remarked, "Why don't you show your old man some toys?" Abel grinned and ran towards the wooden blocks.

"Surely you can understand my concern. When my teaching assistant first directed me towards the problem, I had hoped she had misinterpreted the drawing. But Abel assured me it was a . . . _nine millimeter automatic_. How could Tara explain? _Well, I used to carry a revolver but now I'm a better shot and my husband upgraded me to a Glock. For protection only. And I always leave the safety on_.

Ms. Johnson continued her lecture on child violence while Tara took quick peeks at her husband. Jax was listening respectfully, but Tara knew he was cracking up on the inside. A gun toting, knife wielding biker in the house, and Abel draws his _mother_ with a gun?

"We don't want Abel to influence his peers in a negative fashion. This gun drawing, along with the fight. . . ." Tara jerked from her trance. Jax's body stiffened, and she knew it was on. Tara knew her face was still red, but this time it was from indignation. Tara knew exactly what Ms. Johnson was insinuating, and she wasn't going to let her get away with it.

"Abel told me exactly what happened, Ms. Johnson. Our son felt his behavior was his last recourse, especially after Ms. Tonya's attempts to mediate failed." Tara couldn't believe Ms. Johnson was trying to throw Abel under the bus. The head of surgery's kid was a terror; the whole hospital knew it.

Tara had to grit her teeth to keep the anger at bay. "We are not going to discourage our son from defending himself when all other solutions have failed." That was not the answer Ms. Johnson wanted.

"You do realize these incidents will be placed on his record?"

"A record I'm sure won't prevent him from being accepted into Stanford," Tara shot back. "And I'm assuming the same incident will be placed in Trevor's record?" Tara was livid.

"That's a confidential matter, Dr. Knowles. What I can say, however, is that any future behavior of this sort will result in Abel being sent home for the day."

Jax interrupted. "So St. Thomas Preschool believes in parent intimidation? Is that how you handle bullies in your school? Keep the kids quiet by threatening the parents with a suspension notice? I thought this sort of thing was handled by talking with the spawn's parents." Ms. Johnson made the slightest squirm in her chair. "Obviously that hasn't happened, or else the hospital would be bustlin' with that gossip." Jax turned towards his wife. "You heard anything, babe?"

"Why no, I haven't." Tara tilted her head thoughtfully while answering the question.

She couldn't help her smirk. It was sexy to hear Jax take over the conference. He was giving quite a show.

"So my suggestion to you, _Ms. Johnson_," Jax continued, "would be to give us a call _after_ you've met with Trevor's parents. Then we'll be more than happy to have a pow-wow with them." Tara knew the parents would be reluctant to meet with a SON, especially if their child was picking on one of the MC's kids. "Until then, I'll make a point of dropping by to check on my son." Jax turned back to Tara. "You mind lunchin' with your old man?"

"It's a date." Tara's grin was mischievous. "Or two or three or four." Jax winked at his wife.

"I'm sure that won't be necessary, Mr. Teller." Ms. Johnson was desperate to prevent Jax from making unnecessary visits. "Rest assured, we'll call you as soon as we've talked to the other party."

"That's all we ask." Jax response was sincere, and Tara could've sworn she heard a gasp of relief from the teacher's mouth.

Ms. Johnson quickly changed the topic to less volatile issues. Jax and Tara weren't surprised to hear that Abel was at the top academically, but were pleased to hear it nonetheless.

The teasing began as soon as they walked out of St. Thomas. "You're right, babe. School is interesting at all ages." Tara rolled her eyes at Jax while he laughed.

Her husband continued. "They say a child's first teacher is his parents, and what does Abel's mom teach him? The finer points of shooting an automatic." Jax laughs had turned into guffaws. The irony was hilarious.

"Shut up," mumbled Tara as she held her purse tightly. She made a mental note to ask Jax for an ankle holster.

"Don't worry, babe," Jax chuckled as he tugged on Tara's waist. "I hear the family that gang bang's together stays together. Just look at Gemma."


End file.
